


Soul in Sin

by damselindisguise



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Best Friends, Dark Past, F/M, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-01-13
Packaged: 2018-05-13 13:04:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5709208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damselindisguise/pseuds/damselindisguise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Stormtroopers all have soulmates- and the First Order learned from the mistakes of the Empire. They will ensure every Stormtrooper has their mark fulfilled; sooner, rather than later. After all... it ensures loyalty, doesn't it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soul in Sin

**Author's Note:**

> ((A/N: This is a reversal of the Poe/Finn fandom's view on soulmate marks, which says that the First Order erases them-- I'm reversing that idea here. We'll see how it goes! I hope you enjoy! :D))

FN is twenty three years old and practicing for combat alongside his squad- Nines, Zeroes, and Slip- when his mark comes in.

One minute he's charging the false holo-Rebels, his blaster rifle raising at his side, and then a burning spike of pain spreads across his chest from where his heart is. 

He tries to slow his breathing, but it doesn't seem to work, and he's not sure what protocol is here- has he been hit? Has Slip had a misfire? Whatever it is, it burns like he's never felt before, a deep, horrible aching of a hot itch, searing itself into his dark skin as he scrabbles at his chest plate.

"Stop the simulation," he hears a modulated female voice, doubled, order, and he can just barely see the shining of chrome over him- Captain Phasma. 

He needs to get up. This is bad. Phasma is watching. She'll tear him a new one for this.

"FN-2187," she says, voice stout, "Report."

"My- my chest, Captain," he wheezes, dragging his fingers over his heart in an X instinctively, trying to tell her what's going on.

"His soulmate mark," she understands, and he's confused- do Stormtroopers get those? No one ever talks about Stormtroopers having soulmates. He's sure he'd have heard of Stormtroopers deserting to go and find their soulmate if they did.

Nines, Zeroes, and Slip are hanging back, looking confused, and Phasma turns towards them, ordering, "Leave. Now. You're dismissed for the day. FN-2187 will be back after we treat him."

His team slowly leaves, and FN's vision blurs as another horrible wave of pain crosses him- it feels like the skin over his heart is boiling, like he's being scalded with an iron, or like he's been struck point blank with the end of a shock-axe on his skin and then held it there to scald him. 

"Relax," Phasma tells him, her voice sounding much like a sigh, "This is normal, 2187. It will take a few hours to complete- and after that you will be glad it happened."

"Why?" he begs, breathless, "Captain- what's- happening?"

Another pain slams into him, and he grips his chest, trying to unbuckle his white armor from his chest. He feels a pair of hands slapping his own aside, none too gently, and he opens his eyes again, blurry, and sees Captain Phasma knelt over him, her hands working, quick and efficient, on his suit, her mask unshifting as she informs him, "The medics will be here soon. They will watch after you until your mark is finished."

"I'm- a Stormtrooper," he grunts through it, "How do I- have a mark?"

"You all do," Phasma says, and this time her voice has the inflection of a grim smile as he digs a hand under the black membrane of the undersuit, and starts rubbing, pained, at the burning place on his skin. Something raised and hot stings his hands just about as much as his chest and heart scald, and he flinches, hissing.

The Captain is quiet and still for a long moment as FN kicks his feet out, ashamed of the way he's whining on the floor right in front of his Captain.

"Sorry, Captain," he wheezes.

"Quiet, 2187," she orders, but he swears there's something gentler he can't define in the way she says it. He has no time to consider it, because almost immediately after, the medics enter, and one of them whispers to him as they pick him up, but it takes him a minute to process.

"We'll find your soulmate," he assures FN, and the Stormtrooper would have taken it as a threat of ending his soulmate's life if it weren't for the reassurance in the way he says it... like he's saying something good, which seems to have no place with the horrible feeling spreading through his veins across his chest, through his body. 

The medics start stripping off his armor, and he stares down at himself, his body sweating, taut, every muscle flexed tight. Its like a thousand charlie-horses have overtaken his tendons, and then each one is laced with fire, and he yelps, feeling his chest burning and rising again like bread. 

He tries to look down, but he can't see the spots on his chest through his blurring eyes and sore neck from all the straining, just feel the heat of it against his chin, radiating out. 

Then he stops thinking at all, and just cries into the sheets of the med-bay's bunk.

~

Eventually, the pain ceases, and they deliver FN to an ice bath and let him sit and soak- his skin is still overheated, flushed and sweating, but his muscles ease down quickly once he's in the water, cooling off, his skin being cleaned by the clear liquid's embrace.

Once he feels better, he gets out of the ice bath and goes over to the mirror, glancing at the refreshers, and looks at his soulmate mark. Two words reflect back at him pinkly, and he swallows, gently running his fingers over the edges- still raw, they sting and throb, rebelling against even his gentle touch.

'Poe Dameron' his chest reads, in a scratchy but awkwardly nice hand font, and he wonders how in the name of the maker they're going to manage to find this man.

~

Poe Dameron turns out to be a rebel pilot- the best pilot in the Resistance, so it is. 

Nines and Zeroes both tell him so when he gets back to the bunk room, or dorm, whatever they're calling it lately, but Slip hasn't the foggiest idea who they're talking about, so at least FN isn't the only one befuddled as to Poe Dameron. 

They train like everything is normal for the next few days, but each time FN lets his mind wander, it inevitably turns to thoughts of Poe Dameron- who is Poe Dameron? What is he like? 

FN supposes he will know soon enough.

Not really, it turns out.

~

They haul in Poe Dameron six months after FN's mark appears- unusually soon, despite the seemingly huge amount of time, he learns, and he watches the back of his soulmate, clad in a brown leather flight jacket, as they drag him into the interrogation room, right after Finn's first battle, when Slip is laying on the sands of Jakku and the Stormtrooper's head is still spinning. 

FN waits for hours after that- six, seven, eight, they stack on top of each other, and he misses almost every shot in their training match that day, earning a disapproving stare from Phasma, but they've got special circumstances, so here he is. 

Kylo Ren emerges something like nine and a half hours in, and automatically FN feels stones sink to the bottom of his stomach and he scrambles onto his feet, trying to salute the Force user despite feeling a keen, strange sense of hate for him in that moment. In any case, Kylo Ren doesn't give the Stormtrooper a second glance, just stalking away to speak to General Hux. 

Phasma passes a spare ten minutes later on her patrol and pauses, glancing at the door before inquiring, "Is Ren finished?"

"I think," FN whispers, wishing he could just go on in, "Sir."

"You can go meet him," Phasma finally decides, and gestures at the door. FN feels a strange sense in his stomach like the lingering that goes on for hours, of vibrations and static in his belly, once one has been hit by a shock axe. 

The Stormtrooper goes into the room slowly, trepidation warming his body and yet covering it in icy pinpricks all the same. 

The man in the chair has blood in his hairline and under his eye, his bottom lip split at the right side. It looks like his cheek and his jaw will bruise badly, and his hair is a sweaty mess, hanging inky black against his shining tan skin. His orbs follow FN lazily as the Stormtrooper slowly circles, unable to look away from Poe Dameron long enough to give his fellow Trooper the light of day as he dismisses him with a mutter of, "Phasma told me to come in here."

The other white clad Trooper exits with a curt nod, boots clanking against the floor with perfect order of steps. 

This leaves FN alone with his apparent soulmate in the torture room, and slowly Poe Dameron turns his head, his eyes brown and hooded as they keep track of the Stormtrooper, drowsy in some manner, his pupils heavy and black against the background of his eyes. 

"Poe Dameron," FN finally voices, and though he knows his voice crack, the modulator in his helmet filters it out more confident and powerful than he feels.

"What's it to you?" the man in the chair asks, his lips curling into a bitter kind of grin. He's clearly making an attempt at sass that FN can barely even process right now- his free hand leaves the barrel of his blaster rifle and wanders up to rub against the armor plate where it sets over his heart, which is thumping hard, so hard it hurts, sending throbbing feelings through his bones.

"We're soulmates," FN-2187 tells him, before he can stop himself, and steps forward quickly; this is a mistake, because Poe Dameron flinches like he's going to be struck, which reminds the Stormtrooper his soulmate just got through being tortured- he feels a powerful anger flashing in him like a strobe light, and then he stifles it, swallowing hard against the hot misery in his throat. 

"Liar," Poe Dameron coughs, spitting out something tinted red, "Stupid torture form, by the way. Besides, Kylo Ren already took what he wanted." The hateful curl when he says Kylo Ren's moniker makes FN get a weird feeling deep inside, but he has no name for it, so he bypasses it.

"What's your mark?" FN requests, but supposes it may sound like a demand.

"Tell me your name, and we'll see if they match," Poe Dameron shoots back, eyes flickering with a fiery passion, like this is some kind of argument, and not a one-sided debate, for all intents and purposes.

"FN-2187," the Stormtrooper answers, back straightening a little bit with the instinct of rattling off his Designation. 

"Oh, Force," the pilot groans, and slams his head back- FN darts forward, placing his hand behind Poe Dameron's head without even considering the action first. 

"Don't do that," he tells his soulmate, very worried about him, and the pilot eyes his carefully, "Its mine, right? Your mark?"

"Might be," Poe says, "Show me yours, I'll show you mine." He tilts his neck to the side, and FN uses his gloved hands, the armor plate on the back brushing Dameron's jaw, to shift his collar aside; sitting there, pale white and raised, like perfect, perfect scars, in the handwriting FN hardly ever uses, is his Designation. 

'FN-2187' it reads, and he thinks of his own, still a little raw against his dark skin, standing out uncomfortably, and he steps back, breathing deeply.

"Yours, now?" Poe asks, curling his lips into a spicy kind of smirk, and FN unbuckles his chest armor, peeling it away and draping it over the cart of tools, and then tugs the black membrane aside, bending forward and tilting his neck so Dameron can see down his collar and look at the scarred, sore letters. 

"Well, shit," the pilot finally says, more a statement than anything else, and then looks up at him through the black visor of the helmet and raises his eyebrows.

"What?" FN asks. 

"If we're soulmates, I probably should actually know what you look like," Poe Dameron reasons, and that does actually sound reasonable to FN, and so he unhooks his helmet and tugs it off over his head, self consciously looking up at the other man with his eyes softening as he does, a certain amount of the trepidation rising more to coil against his esophagus. 

"I get why you're my soulmate now," the pilot laughs a moment or two later, after just sitting there with his eyebrows raised at FN's face.

"I doubt it," FN answers, his voice very quiet, and bitter, and he wants to put his helmet back on.

"Don't be so sure, buddy," Poe grins, starting to look more confident in himself, the very opposite of how the Stormtrooper feels, and then asks, "What do I call you? You've got to have a nickname, right?"

"I don't," FN denies, deciding to stare at the ground as he says it, "Zeroes and Nines and Slip never gave me one. They said I'm too by the book. That... all I am is FN-2187. Besides, Captain Phasma gets mad if we have nicknames." Why is he telling Dameron all of this? It must be the soulmate issue.

"Well, I'm not calling you that," Poe says, stuffy and resilient, apparently determined to give FN a nickname, "FN-2187, huh? FN... how about Finn? You like that?"

"Yeah," FN- now, Finn, he supposes- decides, "Yeah, I like that. I like that." 

"Good," Poe answers, smiling at him in a more pleasant way than he has a single time yet, "Nice to meet you, Finn."

"Nice to meet you, Poe," he experiments. It feels nice, somehow.

"So, what now?" Poe asks, "Do they kill me, so you don't get attached any more than you already have?"

"No," Finn says, "I don't think so. I think they let me keep you."

"Like a pet?" Poe asks, looking shocked and a little angry, and then sighs, that fading, looking away, and adds, "That's not a surprise, they are the First Order."

"What are pets?" Finn wonders aloud, brow furrowing, and Poe ignores him. 

"So, this, who, Captain Phasma? Is she going to supply a collar and leash, too? Or is your Force pal just going to help you drag me around by the throat?" 

"Kylo Ren? I don't- he's not my pal. No one likes Ren that much," Finn explains, crossing his arms, mostly because he feels a keen sense of being attacked and its not doing any favors for the uncomfortable feeling in his chest, and thinking about pals is making him think about Slip and how Slip would have definitely been glad to listen to Finn talk about all of the problems and thoughts he's having, even if Nines and Zeroes won't care one little bit.

"Right, right," Poe snorts, looking away derisively, and Finn feels very bad.

"My friend, Slip, died today," he spits out accidentally, "You would have liked him better. He wasn't like me. He was... different."

"Did he have a soulmate?" Poe asks, giving Finn the evil eye, his brown orbs looking creepy hovering in the corner of them like that. 

"I don't know," Finn says, regretting it, "But I don't think so."

"What would he have done if he had one?" Dameron wonders aloud, and turns in his bonds to stare at Finn, his gaze piercing and strong, "Huh? Can you tell me that much?"

"No," Finn says, because he doesn't know how Slip felt about feelings- he knows, though, that Slip was always willing to help his friends, so he definitely would have been willing to help his soulmate, and so he adds, "He would have helped them."

"So how can you honor Slip?" Poe asks, intensely, leaning forward.

"I can help you," Finn realizes.

"So help me," Poe grins.

"I will," Finn nods quickly, and then says, "Stay here! I'll be back."

"Wait, what?" Poe wonders aloud, as Finn drops his helmet next to the pilot's feet, leaves his chest piece, and runs out half-cocked.

~

"FN-2187," Phasma greets, sounding surprised, but not overly so, "What is it? Also... why the state of undress?"

"What? No, sir, I have my membrane and my legs and arms on. I just... forgot the helmet and chest. Sir." 

She gives him a hard stare.

"Sorry, sir," he adds.

"Better," she answers, "What do you need?" 

"I wanted to know if I could take Poe Dameorn out of the torture room," Finn explains, "I could keep him in one of the rooms with me. I would make sure he didn't try anything at the First Order, okay? Sir?"

"Go ahead, FN," she sighs, "Just be certain you don't allow Dameron to damage the First Order. Otherwise... he would have to be punished, soulmate or not."

Once again, that spike of anger inside of him rises, but he squashes it.

"Yes, sir," he nods, "Thank you, sir."

"Go," she gestures, and turns to go speak to General Hux as the Stormtrooper hurries back to the torture room.

~

"Poe," he says, grinning, as he runs back into the room, and the pilot gives him a very confused stare, "Phasma gave me permission to help you! I'm going to take you out of your bonds, and you can move into my bunk with me. Don't worry about Zeroes and Nines, they warm up to everyone eventually, and if they don't, they won't hurt you anyways, 'cause I'm the team leader."

"That's not what I meant when I said help me," Poe mutters, looking downtrodden with his head hung and his eyes dark and muddy towards the metal floor, as Finn punches in the command to undo his restraints and helps him down, tucking his arm over his shoulder and clutching his chest plate and helmet in his free hand as he wraps the other around Poe's middle.

"C'mon, Poe." 

"I can walk," Dameron tries to argue.

"No, its okay, Finn smiles at him, still jovial and totally unaware of the pilot's irritation, "You had a worse day than me. I can walk. You just let me help you."

"You're going to be insufferable, aren't you?" Poe asks, despite the fact that on the inside, he's kind of having a hard time staying mad at the Stormtrooper.

"No," Finn says, giving a downward-curled look at his soulmate, "I won't."

"Okay," Poe relents, "Fine. You'll be great, Finn."

He isn't sure why he has to comfort the Stormtrooper- but he does. It must be the whole soulmate issue.

~

Zeroes and Nines are on their bunks, cleaning their armor and guns obsessively, when Finn enters with Poe, still tucked around his shoulder. 

Both of the other Stormtroopers look at him like he's grown a second head, and is not just carting a random beat up Resistance fighter into the bunk room. 

"Who is that?" Zeroes asks, brow furrowed, and Nines sits forward, a flicker of some undefined anger on his face.

"Are you trying to get us in trouble?" he snarls, "You already freaked out when Slip died earlier today. You're acting like a traitor, 2187."

"No," Finn protests immediately, "I'm not- I'm no traitor. This is my soulmate."

"That's Poe Dameron?" Zeroes asks, sounding incredulous, because apparently this is not what he expected to see when he thought of the best pilot in the Resistance. 

"Used to be," Poe mutters, and Finn ignores that resolutely.

"This is him," he confirms.

"I expected something... more," Nines grunts, eyeing Poe critically, and if Finn wasn't sure it would incur even tougher fighting from his squadmate at their shock axe sparring tomorrow morning. (Which causes a pang to fill his chest, hollow and clanging, like a great big bell has just been struck by the stutter in his heart, when he realizes that Slip won't be there, that he won't have to look after the other Trooper. It was never a burden. It was just their way. It was his and Slip's thing.) The other Trooper, unaware of Finn's musings- and his brand new name- turns away and derisively snorts at the soulmates, which gets Zeroes to follow his lead.

On the bright side, that leaves Finn to deposit Poe at his bunk and then sit beside him. 

"Okay," he says, "This is my bunk."

"That one's empty?" Poe asks, gesturing at Slip's, like he's confused.

"That was Slip's," Finn answers, quietly, feeling unhappy, and glancing at it before lowing his eyes, baleful, to the sterile floor.

"Oh," Poe says, like he doesn't know how to come back to that, "I'm sorry?" Its a question, not a statement, not an intent. He doesn't know whether to be sorry for Finn and the other Stormtroopers about that or not.

"Thank you," Finn murmurs, and tucks his arms around himself, wondering if Poe is feeling the same raw, open emotional train between them that he is. God, it feels so bizarre, the way he's pulled to just pour out himself for this man he hardly even knows.

"Its my pleasure, buddy," Poe answers, clapping a hand down on Finn's shoulder and giving him a ghost of a smile, which seems out of place here, without Slip to fill in the sterile gaps where Zeroes and Nines are willing to exist mostly by the rules and Finn is unwilling to deviate from them. 

"Thanks," he decides to repeat again, and this effectively finalizes the conversation. 

~

A week passes with Finn leaving Poe sparingly, only going off to train with his team, eat, and do Trooper inspection, and then returning immediately to ensure his soulmate is safe; and, of course, that the pilot has not run off and stolen a TIE Fighter so he can wreck the Star Destroyer and then fly away and leave poor, fateful Finn to his demise.

Soulmates wouldn't do that to each other, right?

Finn supposes not, because he certainly would not do that to Poe, and the other man certainly hasn't done it yet, even when Finn gets hit in the chest with a vibroblade and doesn't get back to the bunk room until late. Of course, Poe also has a lot of stories to tell him about how Zeroes and Nines were avoiding him like the plague, and Finn sort of feels bad for leaving him alone with them when they hate the pilot so much. 

Which is something else he can't be sure about yet- why hate Poe Dameron? Poe Dameron is, for a Resistance pilot, one of the nicest people Finn has ever known, and hasn't said a single bad thing to them since he got here, other than snarky, barbed criticisms of the First Order... which, granted, might be the whole reason that Zeroes and Nines can't stand him. 

Its later that night when Finn is laying awake, his arms wrapped around Poe as he considers this in their cramped bunk, that the pilot has his first nightmare.

It starts with squirming, and Finn is confused, because there's no room for that, so he holds on a little tighter and taps on Poe's shoulder gently, which helps momentarily- then the pilot starts to sweat, and tiny sounds come from his mouth, horrible whimpers and groans, and his hands scrabble at the Stormtrooper's arms, demanding that Finn let him go without any words at all.

"Stop," he whispers, "Get out. My head. Stop." 

"Poe," Finn murmurs, desperate, because Nines and Zeroes are stirring, and they'll be pissed if Poe wakes them, "Poe, please. Wake up, will you?" He's shaking the tan man's shoulder gently, chewing on his lower lip with thought.

"B-Ben," Poe growls, "Stop."

"Ben? Poe, who's Ben?" Finn asks, and this time Poe wakes up immediately, jerking backwards into Finn's chest and nearly slamming the Stormtrooper's head into the wall. His eyes look a little wild, but Finn quickly starts whispering in his ear. 

"Its me, Poe, its me. Its Finn, you're okay. Calm down." He doesn't know how to comfort people, but he supposes this is the best he can do, and its instinct, what he says. 

"Nightmare," Poe mutters, twisting carefully, and Finn loosens his grip on Poe's soaking shirt and watches as he does. 

"Who's Ben?" Finn inquires again.

"Kylo Ren was Ben Solo before he was Kylo Ren," Poe shrugs, and Finn gapes at him.

"You mean like the Resistance general, Solo?! Han Solo?!"

"Yeah, his son. I knew him. Then... he turned to the Dark Side, and tortured me when he caught up to me. Then I met you."

"Poe," Finn says, shocked, and tightens his grip on the pilot again.

"I hate being so close to him," Poe mutters, a hatefulness that Finn has never heard from him bleeding through, "He's a traitor."

"He's miles away," Finn reasons, remembering exactly how huge the Destroyer they're on actually is. 

"Doesn't matter," Poe sighs, "He's still on the ship. I just keep thinking he's going to show up and pull me away from you and torture me again."

"I won't let him," Finn automatically says, sitting up and almost hitting his head. 

"You couldn't stop him, either," Poe warns him, giving him a hard, dark look, and Finn hasn't ever seen the pilot like this before- so angry, so lost.

"How can I make it better?" he asks hopefully, hesitant to say anything, because this is deeply uncharted territory for him- helping Slip was always so much simpler than helping Poe Dameron. 

"You can help me sleep," the pilot answers, averting his eyes.

"How?" Finn asks, furrowing his brow, "Do you want to sleep by the wall? I've always slept by the wall, but if you want to, you can sleep by the wall."

"No, Finn," Poe sighs, "I need to get off of this ship. I can't sleep knowing Ben- Kylo is so close all the time. I don't... trust anything here."

"What about me?" Finn asks, hurt, and it must show in his eyes, because Poe curls a hand around the Stormtrooper's forearm gently and he looks him in the brown orbs with his own. 

"I trust you, Finn," Poe assures him, "But I can't stay here. Can you help me? Can you let me go?"

"I don't know," he struggles, because its making his chest hurt, his mark feel like its about to start sizzling again, to even imagine the concept. Its like his heart might just stop if he separates from Poe Dameron, "You want to leave?"

"You can come, too," Poe tells him, eyes gentling some more, "You don't have to stay with them."

"Yes, I do," Finn says, feeling lost, and looks at Slip's empty bunk again, "I do. You... don't. Poe, how can I help you?"

"Look the other way while I run," Poe tells him, "Let me get to the TIE Fighter before you report me. I'll be home free by then."

"Okay," Finn whispers, his throat feeling full and his eyes getting a little blurry, his bones sore, his heart throbbing, "Okay. I can do that."

"Okay," Poe whispers, and, for the first time, he leans up and presses his lips to the edge of Finn's jaw, leaving a single searing kiss against the skin, and then travels up to the Stormtrooper's lips and kisses there, too, before leaning away, kicking his legs out, and slipping from the room.

Finn is silent.

~

The moment Finn dashes into the control room, he knows something about Poe's plan has gone very wrong, because there is a TIE Fighter flicking around at random in the air of the hanger on a wire of some sort, and the officers are all running back and forth, shouting and waving their hands, trying to figure out what's going on- the Stormtroopers below are aiming their heavy blasters at the starfighter, but its not getting through the durasteel and plating; then Finn sees the problem, and curses everything, especially the Force, for what he will have to do.

Poe Dameron has taken the two person TIE Fighter. 

Finn sprints down the hallway, buckling his helmet over his head, and then into the bay where the Fighter is spinning helplessly like a fish in a net above, the blasters unmanned, and then drags himself over the rails and up the ladder to where the long cord embeds in the wall, and then wraps himself around it, inching towards the starfighter. A bunch of cheers go up below as they see FN-2187, model Stormtrooper, scaling the wire to stop the traitor, the escapee. 

Little do they know, soon, he will be the traitor. 

Turning his head, Finn sees Zeroes and Nines come stumbling in, still putting their armor on, and they must recognize him somehow, heads tilting back and sidewards, as he clambers up onto the circling top of the TIE Fighter, clutching to one of the wings and then kicking the hatch on top as he peels his helmet off to toss it aside, listening to the plastic sounding clatter as it falls to the floor below from the hull. It jerks open and he gets a face full of blaster, ducking backwards, and-

"Finn!" Poe exclaims, "What're you doing?!"

"This is a two person TIE fighter!" Finn shouts back, and drops inside, sweat pouring down his face as he does, to slam the hatch behind him and flick the lock.

"I figured that out," Poe mutters, and, then, louder, "How do we get out?"

"We shoot the control room," Finn reveals, having seen the officers at the readouts, the viewports, keeping track of the cord and keeping it steady with their tech- Poe swings the Fighter around and Finn jerks what seems to be the trigger, sending a pair of poison green bolts into the large disc of a room- it explodes, crumbling, and they snap loose, roaring from within the bay and out into the void of space, yawning, black, and empty, a scratchy cold abyss.

"This is terrifying," Finn whispers, never having seen space like this before, and he hears Poe chuckle before straining to shout back at Finn.

"This thing really moves!"

"You're right about that," Finn nods, and holds tight to the controls, watching for any pursuers, but it seems like nothing is coming after them.

"We need to take out the hyperlasers, or we won't make it far," Poe calls back to him.

"Okay," Finn nods, feeling game, and they swoop low, passing two turrets; Finn swings the controls and focuses the readout on the nearest- he unloads it, and then turns it again, the verdant bolts bright and ugly as they slam into the huge masses, and then the fireballs spreading, despite being just as ugly in their orange tone, prove to be much more satisfying.

He cheers, and so does Poe, as he exclaims, "Did you see that?! Did you see that?!" to his soulmate.

"I saw it! That was great!" Poe affirms him, and swings the TIE down and around, heading towards the surface of the planet below.

"Where are we going?" Finn asks, brow furrowing.

"Back to Jakku," Poe tells him.

"No, we have to get out of the system! The First Order will find us!"

"My droid is on Jakku. A BB unit. One coming up on your left- my left? Your left."

"I see it! A droid?" Finn asks, incredulous, though he senses some deeper attachment there, even as he fires the cannons, sending a blue flash of explosive power out as he detonates the missile tailing them. 

"He's special," Poe informs the Stormtrooper, "White and orange, BB-8; he's carrying a map to Luke Skywalker."

"Luke Skywalker? Oh, you've got to be... fine, Poe! Fine! Take us down."

"Great," Poe curls his lips, "Watch out, another missile!"

Finn fires again, knocking it out of the air, and once they swoop into the atmosphere they lose the other two as well- below them, the village still smolders, the villagers and the other Stormtroopers forgotten below. Finn's stomach sinks, feeling empty and shadowed and hollow.

"Can we land?" he asks, abruptly, thinking of Slip, and Poe looks back at him sharply, brow low and dark.

"Land? Here? Now?"

"I need to- there's someone I have to see," Finn reasons, hoping the whole soulmate thing will make Poe just understand, the way Finn does him. 

"There's no one down there," Poe says, but he's landing, like Finn just gave in over the BB unit, considering the weird feelings between the pilot and the droid.

"Thank you," Finn murmurs, and watches the sand whirl up around the outside of the TIE Fighter, climbing out and waving over his shoulder, "Wait here."

"Do you want me to circle?" Poe asks, leaning out of the hatch.

"No," Finn shakes his head, "We need to stay low. It confuses their scanners."

"Really? We didn't know that yet," Poe considers, more to himself than his soulmate, and the Stormtrooper heads into the village, feeling like a thousand horrible stones, boiled in the sun, have sunk into his gut. He knows the way to Slip's fallen form by heart, somehow, immediately, and finds himself crouching over the white clad form before he can even think about it, staring at the ruined membrane of the glove over his friend's hands- the dried blood, rust colored, on his skin. 

Finn thinks he should say something, and he tries- his voice is silent as he utters, 'Slip,' but nothing comes out past his lips; he buries his face in his hands, his tears blocking his throat. Slip was his friend- maybe his only friend, because as much as he and Zeroes and Nines were close, they weren't friends, not the way he and Slip were. They were... what, best friends? He can't define it.

"Buddy?" he hears Poe ask behind him, and he sits up, scrubbing his face- salt water tears have mixed with the sweat coating his dark skin, and he can't hide that much, so Poe adds, questioningly, "What's going on? You okay, Finn?"

"This was my best friend," the Stormtrooper finds himself saying, hoarse, before he can consider it- and he supposes that answers the whole friend question, and all. 

"Oh," Poe whispers, and kneels slowly beside Finn, turning his head towards the dune, the little tiny sand valley beyond the hill where the broken hull of the crappy X-Wing he'd flown here remains, "Uh, Finn... I... I should tell you something."

"I know," Finn nods, because he does. He saw Poe, lurking at the edge of the camp, and he'd watched the sapphire bolt fly from his blaster rifle into Slip- he'd felt this awful lurch, and hadn't even been able to bother attacking Poe because of it. He's glad he didn't, now, but at the time it was a wild guilt that he couldn't avenge his friend's death.

"Oh," Poe says again, and they are both silent, his soulmate's hand finally finding his way up to rub between Finn's sweaty shoulders, where the back piece of armor has come loose, the way he toppled down without even knowing it alongside Slip's body. 

"He would have understood us," Finn tells Poe, not really thinking about his words, "He'd have liked you, too. He'd probably have come with us. It'd have been for the best." He sniffs a little, and this time he finds the pilot's arms wrapped around him, despite the sweat dripping off of them, and black hair rubbing against his cheek as Poe hugs him close.

He's having a hard time remembering the last time anyone hugged him. He knows it was Slip- if anyone other than Slip ever hugged him, that is.

"Can we bury him?" he asks, his voice ragged and breathy.

"We can," Poe nods, his eyes full of feeling, and his voice raw and understanding, slow in his throat, and warm in a much nicer way than the Jakku atmosphere around them, "It won't be hard. Come on, you carry him, I'll dig."

The Stormtrooper carries his best friend across the dunes to where Poe has found a little area that dirt has gathered, tiny plants, yellow-green, trying to grow from the sandy soil, and he uses his hands to dig a shallow grave before sitting down and watching as Finn deepens it- once its deep enough, he lowers his best friend into it and stares for a moment before shrugging, mouthing, 'Bye, Slip,' and then scooping it back over him. 

They are silent when its over.

"I'm sorry," Poe offers him.

"Its not your fault," Finn answers, fragile, but then he feels some strength in him, a dark fury overtaking some part of him instantly, "Its not the Resistance's fault. Its theirs- the First Order. Phasma and Hux and Ren. Their fault."

"Now you've got it," Poe smiles grimly, and they stalk back towards the TIE Fighter together, the grief finally progressing, as he has been told for years it does for those who grieve, to anger. 

~

They find a little town of tents and shanty buildings a few hours later, after searching near the sand, baking within the TIE Fighter, together. 

Poe lands them a few hundred meters away and helps Finn rip off the armor plates from the membrane of his suit, and then leads him into the town.

People stare, many kinds of aliens, more than Finn has ever seen in one place, joining them within moments, but they ignore that; ahead, Finn notices a girl with a BB unit at her side, fighting off a pair of thieves. 

"Borrow my jacket," Poe tells him out of the corner of his mouth, "It'll make it easier to walk around, without them staring at us the whole time." 

Finn accepts it, pausing and looking at the girl and the droid again as she uncovers it- it is white and orange. 

"Hey, Poe," he calls, and moves forward, socking the pilot gently on the shoulder, "Isn't that your droid?" 

"Yeah," Poe realizes, face almost glowing with happiness, "BB-8, buddy! Buddy, its me!" 

There's a deafeningly high pitched trilling of excitement before the droid starts whirling, its tiny orb body carrying it at a blurring pace, towards them- Poe kneels and opens his arms, and the droid collides with his chest, tilting a little half-ovoid head against the leather flight jacket he wears. 

"This is Finn," he answers, when the droid makes a long bloo-oop of questioning, and Finn waves a little, kind of nervous, because is this droid basically Poe's kid or something? It seems like it.

The girl has approached, about a head or so shorter than them both, and she looks between them, three braids on the back of her head twitching a little with the way her glance goes back and forth. 

"Are you BB-8's master?" she asks. 

"That's me," Poe confirms, standing, "Poe Dameron. This is Finn."

"I'm Rey," she answers, looking between them, and BB-8 swivels, looking up at them all, and then examines Finn's knees and makes a loud beep-beep of questioning.

"Oh, no," Poe mutters, and Rey's face stretches with surprise.

"You're soulmates?" the scavenger exclaims. 

"Keep it down!" Poe says, before she can add anything else, and then they head towards the TIE Fighter together, trying to inform her of what's going on together in hushed voices, her face growing increasingly awed as she watches her boots break the sand's swooping set- until, abruptly, there is a screaming in the distance. 

"What's that?" Rey asks, looking up.

"That's a TIE Fighter," Finn says immediately, and then their own Fighter flashes with the same poison green Finn was firing from it earlier, and detonates into a massive fireball, the dust and sand rushing past them and stinging the trio's skin. BB-8 screeches a long blee-eep of horror, and then Finn, not even saying a word, grabs both of the other people by the hands and drags them along, the droid not needing prompt to roll with them, right on their heels.

"What're you doing?!" Rey yelps, tearing her hand from his, but Poe just clutches tighter. 

"Running!" he exclaims, and more bolts fall among the tents, sending canvas and rubber sky high. 

"I don't need you to hold my hand!" she responds loudly, and Poe points ahead- a ship, some kind of freighter.

"Let's take that!" he tells them, waving his arms.

"That one is garbage!" Rey argues, and her head shakes, wild, on her shoulders, as BB-8 makes a bunch of blarp-ing sounds of irritation. 

He points at another ship.

"Then we can escape in that Quadjumper!" he yells at them both, and Rey nods frantically, getting ahead of them.

"I'll fly!"

"What?" Poe screeches, but then it doesn't matter, because this time the bolts slam into it powerfully, cutting off their ideas, exploding powerfully.

"The garbage will do!" Rey yelps, and they all run onboard the freighter up the ramp- Finn yanks the closing switch as soon as BB-8 is on, and looks back to where Finn and Rey have both taken over the pilots' seats. 

"I'll take the gun," he sighs, and leaps down into the belly.

**Author's Note:**

> (A/N: I hope you liked it! I may continue this, considering its got some mild AU to it, but I may decide not to. We'll see! :) ))


End file.
